Number One Hangover Cure
by brokenbottleaurora
Summary: Blaise knew he shouldn't have had so much to drink last night...


**MC4A Challenge Block:**

 **Stacked With:** By Any Other Name; Sky's the Limit; Seriously Important (Not); Lessons Learned; Shadows of Consequence; Final Frontiers; Romance Challenge; In a Flash; Slytherin MC2; Gryffindor MC2; Ravenclaw MC2; Yellow Ribbon Redux; Click Bait It

 **Representations:** Lunar Heroic Shadow; Established Triad; Oblivious Harry; Blaise Isn't Young Anymore; Hangover Hell; Limits of Patience; Fluffy Romance

 **Bonus Challenges:** Sneeze Weasel; Second Verse (Ladylike - Cursing; Non-Traditional; Three's Company; Mermaid); IAF (Y); SMC2 (Y); GMC2 (Y); RMC2 (Y); YRR (Y); CBI (N)

 **The Houses Competition, Term 04**

 **Pre-Round Challenge**

 **Hufflepuff**

 **Prompt: Gwen (Ship- Blaise/Harry/Luna)**

 _For Gwen- Here's my attempt at Lunar Heroic Shadow. Hope you enjoy it!_

* * *

Number One Hangover Cure

Blaise stumbled into the kitchen, blindly jabbing his wand in the direction of the windows and hoping to Merlin the shades actually went down this time. He tapped the top of the percolator, and it slowly gurgled to life.

 _Luna is a saint_ , he thought to himself. She was the only one who consistently remembered to load the thing with coffee at night so that he didn't have to fumble with it in the morning. As quietly as possible, he pulled a mug from the cabinet and poured himself a generous amount.

 _They only thought the Philosopher's Stone produced the Elixir of Life,_ he mused, snorting at his own humor. Blaise immediately regretted it, clutching his head in his free hand.

"How's that hangover?"

Blaise turned – _too fast!_ his head protested – to see Harry leaned against the door jamb, regarding him with a smug smile.

"Ugh, sssstrrrrbl," Blaise groaned.

Harry walked past and dropped a kiss onto his throbbing head. "How about a nice greasy fry up, eh?"

Blaise didn't bother to respond – he knew by the way Harry was banging the pots and pans around that he'd already made up his mind to "help". Soon enough the sausage was sizzling, the potatoes were popping, and the one-man-band in Blaise's head had reached a deafening decibel.

"What's going on here?"

Blaise flicked his eyes – _still hurts!_ his body cried – to where Luna stood observing the scene.

"Curing Blaise's hangover!" Harry chirped. "Wanna come help me? You can… uh, you can make the toast."

"Even that's not safe," Blaise grumbled into his coffee.

Luna let out a tinkling laugh. "That's alright, sweetheart. I think I'll just get our Blaise here a fresh cup of coffee." She tugged the now empty mug – _damn, that girl has magical timing!_ – from his hand, giving it a gentle squeeze before padding over to the percolator.

"I'm always amazed that the two of you can barely boil water," Harry laughed as she carefully filled the mug. "You're both a dab hand at potions. You'd think it would carry over into the kitchen."

"Shut it, Potter," Blaise snarked before snatching the mug from Luna's hand. With a soft sigh, she sat a glass of water down as well, but Blaise shunned it in favor of another gulp of coffee. Who needed real hydration when they could have the nectar of the gods?

They sat in blessed near-silence for a few moments while Harry finished up the meal. It all came to a horrifying end when Harry began throwing open the cabinets, pulling out the plates and glasses, and thunking them down on the table. Blaise was about to cry when he saw Luna point her wand in Harry's direction and whisper, " _Silencio_."

"Bless you, woman," Blaise muttered, dropping his head back to his mug.

Harry levitated the platters of food, silverware, and dishes over to the table. He sat down, grabbing the spoon for the beans, and began talking – or tried to, at least. When he realized that he was moving his mouth but no sound was coming out, Harry dropped the spoon and looked crossly at Blaise.

"I didn't do it!" Blaise winced, holding his hands up in submission.

Luna placed a hand on Harry's arm. "Harry, you already know that Blaise has a hangover. What's the thing you complain about most when you're hungover?"

Harry mouthed something that looked like _towd oises_ before a look of comprehension flashed over his face.

"I was trying to silence the dishes, but it looks like I got you too. Hold on just a moment," Luna said, silently cancelling the spell.

"Sorry, babe," Harry whispered meekly. "I didn't even think about noise affecting you so much. We should have just ordered in."

"It's fine, Harry. I appreciate the idea, and the food now that it's in front of me." Blaise grinned.

Harry snorted. "You only love me for my cooking."

"Nonsense!" Blaise cried, wincing again. "I also adore that delicious, muscle-y body of yours."

To the delight of the other two, Harry flushed a deep crimson.

"Agreed, Blaise," Luna snickered. "So did you have a good time last night?"

"Obviously," Harry muttered under his breath.

Blaise rolled his eyes. "What I _remember_ of it was fantastic. But apparently I can't hold my firewhiskey the way I once could, and I didn't have anyone watching me close enough to cut me off when I'd had enough. We were all too busy trying to keep the groom from calling the bride and crying about how wonderful she is."

"That's what you get for leaving us behind to go to Draco's stag party," Luna said smugly.

Harry just chuckled. "And I would have paid good money to see Malfoy like that. Hell, I'd have bought a couple rounds just to keep it going!"

"Some help you'd be." Blaise laughed, much less painfully now that he had some food in his belly.

"If I remember correctly, and I know that I do, the last time we all went out, I had to drag both of your sorry arses home!" Luna giggled.

By the time they all finished breakfast, they were laughing so hard they could scarcely breathe. Even better, Blaise's hangover was completely cured.


End file.
